


First Star To the East

by Arianna



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Post-The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg, Sentinel Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianna/pseuds/Arianna
Summary: Jim chooses a special anniversary to give Blair a symbolic gift.





	First Star To the East

**Author's Note:**

> 2018 Bingo Prompt: The Sentinel by Blair Sandburg

**First Star to the East**

_This story is a collaboration of ideas by Shiredancer and Arianna_

 

Jim looked up at the stars, appreciating the rare crystal clarity of the night sky when so often it was misted by clouds or muted by the diffuse glow of the bright city lights across the bay.  When he concentrated, he could see past the glare, focusing the way Blair had encouraged him to do back on that first night Sandburg had stood on this balcony with him.  A smile of remembrance tugged at his lips, fondness for his partner’s persistence and unwavering confidence in his abilities warming him against the spring chill in the air.  It was exactly four years since that night, four years of discovery, of growing trust, of … well, so much, all of it adding to something more vital, more important to him than he had the words to fully describe. 

 

But they’d gone through a lot of darkness to get to the light, and had nearly lost it all.

 

Hell, less than a year ago, he’d damned near lost Blair.  The breath still caught in his chest whenever he remembered that sound of silence where there should have been a heartbeat – and then the hair lifted on the back of his neck and a chill that had nothing to do with the night air shivered over his skin when his mind filled again with the vision of the black jag and the wolf leaping …. 

 

He still didn’t understand all that it meant.

 

Or all that they were to one another; wasn’t sure he ever would. 

 

He just knew with now unshakeable conviction that whatever came at them, they’d face it together. 

 

And he knew he had to find some way to commemorate that conviction, that they were together in this life adventure, connected, equal partners.  So he’d come up with this idea, and he was more than glad that the clear sky he needed glittered so cooperatively above him.  Now, he could only hope Blair would fully understand all that he meant. 

 

The low rumble with the distinctive subtle knock in the engine – that apparently only he could hear – grew closer as the ancient Volvo turned the corner and rolled into the parking lot behind the building.  In moments, Blair would be inside, climbing the stairs (still reluctant to take any elevator unless it was absolutely necessary).  Cocking his head to listen, he heard Sandburg’s tread on the steps, frowning as he listened for the slight drag, the heavy weariness that dogged Blair since the press conference, whenever he thought he was alone and no one would see, would know, that it wasn’t as easy as he tried to pretend to leave his old dreams behind.  But, tonight, Blair’s pace was quicker, lighter somehow; Jim dared hope the news Sandburg was bringing would be good.  Moving inside, to the kitchen, he drew two, very cold bottles of beer from the fridge.  He’d uncapped them by the time Blair opened the door and stepped inside. 

 

When Blair’s gaze lifted to see Jim holding out a bottle, his brow quirked even as a smile grew, lightening the shadows in his eyes, bringing back some of the old sparkle. 

 

“Wow, man, now that’s the way to make a fellow glad to be home,” he quipped as he shrugged out of his jacket, quickly hanging it on a hook and then reaching for the bottle.  He sniffed the air, picking up the rich scent of the beef stew that had been simmering on the back burner for the last couple hours and the yeasty notes of the freshly baked loaf on the counter.  “You know, I’m going to miss all this great home cooking every night when you’re off sick leave.  How’d it go with your doctor today?  Did you get medical approval to at least go back on light duty?”

 

Jim nodded as he reached to clink their bottles together before taking a long swallow.  “Yeah,” he gusted with no little relief.  “I called Simon earlier.  I head back on Monday.”  Moving into the living room, toward the balcony door, he asked, “So how was your day?”

 

Blair trailed behind him.  “Good; better than I thought it might go,” he replied, his tone light, the strain Jim had been hearing since the press conference finally gone. 

 

When Jim turned to fully face him, a brow raised in interest, Blair’s smile broadened as he continued, “We negotiated a deal: I won’t sue over the Chancellor’s inappropriate actions and unlawful termination of my relationships with Rainier, both my employment as a teaching fellow and my status as a doctoral student.  They’ll give me the opportunity to submit my dissertation, acknowledging that Berkshire Publishing’s claims about the document they released illegally have no academic relevance.” 

 

“That’s great, Chief!” Jim exclaimed, meaning it.  He’d felt sick ever since seeing the press conference, knowing his behaviors had pushed Blair over a line he never should have felt the need to cross. 

 

Blair shrugged, a diffidence signaling that there were still rough spots, still hurdles to be cleared.   “Yeah, basically, it’s really great,” he finally allowed.  “The Chancellor isn’t happy about it, but I got the impression from the Dean that the Board isn’t happy with her behaviour throughout the whole fiasco, so I guess we’re even.  Anyway, Eli has agreed, as the Chair of my Dissertation Committee, to move forward and – on the side – is totally willing to pretend we haven’t been discussing a diss on the existence of modern day sentinels for the past few years.  Instead, we’ll firm up a new topic next week providing I agree to get on with it and deliver a paper within the next six months.”

 

“Soooo, I’m guessing, with that kind of deadline, it means you’ll be thanking Simon for his offer but not accepting it?” Jim ventured, not at all sure whether he felt relief or regret.

 

Blair’s brow furrowed.  His gaze flicked up to meet Jim’s and danced away.  He took a breath and let it out, slowly.  Straightening his shoulders, he lifted his head to hold Jim’s gaze.  “I don’t know,” he admitted.  “I really don’t.” 

 

Not at all sure what the right reaction would be, and knowing from years of successful interrogations that silence would best prompt Sandburg to clarify his thoughts, Jim didn’t respond.  But the tension in his shoulders eased when Blair gave him a quizzical look before smiling, albeit tentatively, as he continued, “I wondered if, maybe, when I get my PhD, if there might be a possibility of at least a part time gig as a consultant – you know, as a specialist in anthropology and community dynamics, or whatever?  Maybe a stipend to keep working with you on ‘select cases’?”  His gaze darted away, and some of the tight strain was back in his voice as he added, “I just … I just don’t think I’d make a great cop, Jim.  And I’m not sure the system would work for us if I was.  I’d have different accountabilities and, who knows, I might have to do time as a rookie on patrol or whatever.”  Worry flickered in Blair’s eyes as his gaze lifted to search Jim’s face for a reaction.

 

Eager to put the kid out of his misery, Jim nodded and replied, “I think something like that might very well be possible.  We’ve got all kinds of data about the contributions you’ve made and a PhD would give you the professional cred you don’t have now.  Shouldn’t be hard to convince the Chief and Commissioner that, for all practical purposes, you’re integral to my ability to manage these senses effectively.  Beside all that, you’re right, there would be complications if you accepted a badge, not least of which would be the hoops to make detective.”

 

Blair’s relief shone in his face.  “So you’re okay with this?” 

 

“Of course, I’m fine with it.  But, Chief, more than that, I think you deserve to keep pursuing your own professional dreams,” Jim interjected.  “What are your chances for a job at Rainier once you graduate?”

 

Blair sighed and shook his head.  “I’m not sure what’ll happen at that point, but Eli was pretty vocal during the discussions that if there wasn’t at the very least a part time teaching or research position for me with the hope of achieving tenure, he’d be taking his prestige elsewhere.  I don’t think Rainier would want to risk the donations his celebrity brings into their coffers, so I expect there’ll be some kind of offer once I’ve fulfilled the requirements.”  With a shrug, he added, “Would be nice if something worked out but what I really want is to keep working with you.  You know that, right? That … that’s what I want most?  It’s just that I think we have to manage the optics.”

 

“Yes,” Jim assured him, “I know that’s what you want.  It’s what I want, too.”

 

A telltale brow rose, signaling uncertainty, not necessarily disbelief in his words but perhaps wondering when the next time doubt would creep in to erode the foundation of their partnership, leaving everything they had at risk – again.  Jim’s mouth tightened.  He regretted Blair’s apparent assumption of trouble ahead, however quickly the kid covered it with his bright smile. It was past time to make it very clear where he stood.  This was the moment he’d prepared for and for which he needed that crystal clear sky outside.  “You know what day this is, Sandburg?” Jim asked abruptly.

 

Blair blinked, clearly thrown and not at all sure where the conversation was going.  “Uh … Thursday?” he offered. 

 

With a laugh, Jim nodded but gestured toward the balcony.  “Yes, Einstein,” he allowed, “it’s Thursday, but it’s also a kind of anniversary.  I want to show you something outside.”

 

Mystified, his curiosity clear, Blair willingly followed him out onto the balcony.  Conscious that the evening was growing colder, Jim looked up at the sky and quickly got to the point.  “Four years ago tonight, you pointed up at Orion’s Belt and told me to really look at it, to focus on the stars, starting with the star on the east end.  You said it was called Alnitak, or Zeta Orionis.  It was a clear night like this one, and you asked me to really focus, to look out as far as I could, to see what I could see – color, shape … whatever.  You told me not to worry about zoning, that you would be right there, grounding me.”

 

Blair nodded, a fond expression on his face, the light of wonder he always had in his eyes when he contemplated Jim’s senses.  “I remember,” he murmured.  “You saw more than I would ever have imagined.”  

 

Jim stared up at the constellation.  “Two stars where only one was expected,” he recalled, unable to suppress a slightly smug smile of success.  “Both burning blue, one massive and one MUCH smaller, a dwarf companion.”

 

Snickering, Blair shook his head.  “I sincerely hope that’s not a pejorative description,” he joked, bumping his elbow against Jim’s, knowing Jim was subtly teasing him, enjoying the banter. 

 

Laughing, Jim bobbed his head.  “Maybe a little,” he allowed, grinning when the emphasized ‘little’ drew a small groan of protest.  “But seriously, I was stoked that you believed me – I mean, who would believe a man could perceive something like that?  I wasn’t sure I believed it.  But you pushed your colleagues in the astronomy faculty to check it out and two years later, in ’98, it was confirmed.”  He turned to look down at Blair.  “You believed in me, have always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

 

Blair’s gaze softened, his smile tender.  “I always will,” he affirmed.  “Your senses – they’re awesome, Jim.  I don’t think we know yet what all the limits are or might be.  I know you got tired of the testing so we stopped and I know they, well, they hurt and can be a terrible burden but … you are a gift, man.  You … you’re amazing.  And,” he added, old pain or maybe grief briefly lining the edges of his lips, “you’re the real thing.  A true sentinel, using your senses, all your skills and knowledge to do the best you can to protect your tribe.”  He heaved a sigh and looked up at the constellation above them, glittering brightly in the velvety sky.  “I wish I could see what you see,” he murmured to himself.  An old wish, one often expressed, perhaps more often than he ever realized. 

 

“Well, tonight, I want you to see what I can see,” Jim replied.  “Wait here,” he directed before ducking into the loft to pick up a long metal tube on the far side of the sofa.  Carrying it out to the balcony, he handed it to Sandburg.  “To me, those two stars have come to represent our partnership – from when it first began, with the kind of eternal constancy that I want us to have.  Tonight, I want you to see them as I do, life companions, one incomplete without the other.”

 

Blair gaped at him and then at the telescope Jim was holding out to him.  Understanding glimmered as he fully grasped what Jim was saying, promising, and joy grew to illuminate his face as he reached out to take the instrument.  With a deep breath, he raised it to his eye and adjusted the focus until he grew very still.  “I see it,” he breathed.  “The blue dwarf.”

 

Jim threw an arm around Blair’s shoulders, looking up with him at the binary stars glittering so brightly above.  “I know the big guy gets all the attention,” he said quietly.  “But it’s because there’s two of them that they shine so brightly together.  The, what did you call it that night, the girdle?” he went on, referring to the Arabic meaning of the binary’s name.  “Orion, the hunter, seeking out the dangers, capturing the prey, the two stars anchoring his belt holding it all together.  That’s us, Chief, holding it together.  Working together.  Companions, partners in keeping our tribe safe.”

 

Lowering the telescope, meeting Jim’s gaze, Blair stammered, “I … that you … that they symbolize… and today?  An anniversary I didn’t even remember?  Thanks, man.  Seriously, this is the best gift ever.” 

 

Jim knew that Blair meant more than the telescope, and he savored his partner’s reaction.  But he had to clarify one thing, one important thing that had needed saying for a very long time.  “No, Chief, the best gift ever?  That was the day you pulled me down before that truck could run me over.  The day you showed me what I am and opened up the world for me in a way I never would have understood on my own.  Your … friendship.  Your … belief in me.  Your willingness to stick by me no matter what: that’s the best gift, ever.”

 

He saw the glimmer of emotion in Blair’s eyes, and felt a slight shiver ripple through his friend’s body.  Poor kid was probably freezing.  “So, what do you say, partner, companion, blue dwarf – you ready to head back inside to warm up and share that stew and fresh bread I slaved over all afternoon?”

 

With a grin and a decisive nod, Blair replied as he twisted around to herd Jim inside, “For sure, man.  I’m more than ready to share it all.  Always.” 

 

**_Finis_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I hope you’ll forgive the liberties taken in this story: the mad assumption that even a sentinel could see so far and so clearly, or that any telescope capable of seeing the same phenomenon would be as portable and affordable as was described. But it’s true about the blue dwarf, and true that it was officially discovered in 1998, revealing Alnitak to be binary.


End file.
